May 3 2025 – Cusco to Cachora

The trek technically doesn’t start until tomorrow, but getting there is part of the process, so I’m including it in the trek.

I am, however, having shit luck with the busses in this country. 

The one consistent thing that showed up in my research about this trek was how to get to the trailhead. Buy a bus ticket from Cusco to Abancay, ask to get out at Ramal de Cachora, and take a taxi or colectivo to Cachora. 

I booked my bus ticket online months ago through Oltursa. Ticket was for a 12pm bus. A few weeks ago they emailed me saying the time changed to 11:30am, and to show up by 11. 

I showed up at 10, only to be told the bus leaves at 3. I start wondering if that’ll impact my ability to get a colectivo, so I reached out to the owner of the hotel I’m staying at in Cachora and ask her. She asked what bus company I was using, and when I told her she told me I should confirm with them if they’ll actually stop at ramal de cachora, but said she’d organize a connection from ramal to her hotel for me for 50 soles. I took her up on that offer, but the answer from the bus company was no. They pitched me on the idea of going all the way to Abancay and taking a next day bus back to Cachora. Hard pass on my end. 

One thing I’ve learned about developing nations, if there’s money there’s a way. So I hoofed it down to the Cusco land terminal, which is where all the other regional busses are. Went around to each ticketing agent of the various bus lines until I found one that confirmed they’ll stop at Ramal de Cachora. Bought the ticket for a 1pm departure. And mind you I’m navigating this entire shitshow with Google translate, which had some glitches. 

Bus comes and us passengers start filing out to the loading dock. We have to show our tickets to some official. I show him mine, he throws a huge flurry of Spanish at me and doesn’t let me through the door. 

Thankfully there were multiple kind people willing to assist a frantic and panicked gringo. Turns out I needed a tax stamp, that you get from a kiosk in the middle of the terminal. Google translate from one of the people that helped me picked up that it was 50 soles, which seemed high but I was beyond caring. Ran up to the kiosk and dropped my ticket and a 50 soles note in front of the official. 

To my surprise he said no and pushed it back at me. He also refused to use Google translate. So I’m standing there pushing my ticket, money, and phone at him while frantically saying “no habla español! No habla español! No habla español!” 

He eventually pulls out a 1 sole coin and shows it to me, and that’s when I realized it wasn’t 50 soles, it was 1.50 soles. Google translate messed up. I gave him a 2 soles coin, he stamped my ticket, and I walked away without waiting for change. 

Get out to the loading platform. I confirm with the driver and the woman checking tickets that I’m getting off at Ramal de Cachora. And then I head up to my seat at the front of the second floor (Peru’s regional busses are all double deckers). It’s a 6 hour long bus trip, but I have no reason to suspect anything is amiss. 

2 miles before my stop I come down from the second floor to wait by the door. We blew past my stop. The driver is in a locked compartment. I start pounding on the door. Eventually a girl who was sitting there also starts pounding on the door, and they opened it for her. I told them via Google translate they had missed my stop. They pull over. 

At this point we’re a mile past my stop. They pull my pack out of the storage area, I fling it on and start sprinting down the highway in the dark. Eventually I’m joined by a bunch of stray dogs, which just made it even more surreal. 

But, I made it back to Ramal de Cachora right as my connection was about to give up and leave. They were a little confused by the fact that instead of climbing off a bus in front of them I came running up out of the darkness followed by dogs, but, laughed when I gasped out “bus didn’t stop. Just kept going”.

They brought me to my hotel in Cachora, which is a surprisingly lovely place considering how far we are from places tourists go. The owner of the hotel speaks decent English, and I’m the only guest. She’s offered to cook me breakfast in the morning and organize my transportation to the trail head. I’m sure they aren’t free services, but I’m okay with paying for them at this point. 

For now I’m going to do some last minute repacking and then crash out to sleep in my comfy looking bed.